How to Raise Your Regressor

I'm honestly impressed that these motherfuckers have the gall to challenge me.

I mean, sure, they do not know the depths of my creativity to come up with ways to, let's just say, make myself unalive, but even then, challenging a suicidal boy in his own game doesn't sound like the most tactical decision to me.

But then again, they are wankers.

Huh, these guys could do the dumbest of things and I could explain it just by, 'They are wankers'.

Nice.

"Bold of you to assume that I'll do it in my room."

Fucking noobs.

"Of course, you will also not be allowed to go outside alone."

These guys are giving me the full experience of being at the Eckart family house, huh?

Or that's what I'd like to assume, anyway. I don't really remember what they did to me, after all.

"So you guys are going to keep me under strict watch, eh?"

"You could think of it that way," Ms. Receptionist nodded.

"You're treating me like a prisoner."

"We're not this lenient with our prisoners," she smiled with a dangerous squint.

Yikes.

I can only wonder how many people they have locked up in their basement.

"So I'm just a target to be monitored."

"That would be the most apt description, yes."

"But as far as I'm aware, such targets are kept in the dark about their... monitoring."

That's how it usually works, anyway.

So either these guys are complete dumbasses, or, and this is the more likely scenario, this is another 2000 IQ move by Azell.

Maybe he wants to keep me on my toes and always watch my back.

In hindsight, being so open about my suicidal tendencies wasn't the most tactical decision on my part.

But the challenge itself is a bit amusing so it's all kosher.

"You would have figured it out anyway, so there was no point."

She's not wrong about that.

Or maybe she is.

I am an easily distracted malaka; it wouldn't have been surprising for me not to notice that I was being kept under watch because I was too preoccupied between choosing chocolate shake and coffee.

"You seem to overestimate me quite a bit."

"If I am to believe everything our Guild Leader has told me, I'm still underestimating you; you are, by far, the most troublesome opponent we've had the misfortune of dealing with yet."

Wut.

"If it's a misfortune, why are you going so far? Just leave me to my own devices and relax. It's not like I'm trying to harm you in any way."

"Well, for starters, no one likes the idea of letting a 12-year-old child, in your words, shoot himself in the head."

"I can think of at least one person who'd be happy if I did."

Like, Lecia, or the Eckart family, or the organisation that's after Lecia, or the Aggressors, or the Dragons that are after Neia. Maybe even the random grandma that I bumped into that day.

Huh, I sure have made a lot of enemies. But the number is still more than 1 so my point stands.

"That's probably because it's you, and not because you are a 12-year-old child."

"Ouch."

She had no business personally attacking me like that.

I guess she does deserve the moniker of 'Ms. Cranky Receptionist'.

Though that's becoming a bit too long for my tastes, so from now on, I'm going to call her Ms. CR.

"The second reason is that letting a child die while being under our care would not bode well for our PR department."

"Hmm, that's true. But I'm sure we can work together in a way that benefits us both."

"Perhaps, but I doubt our Guild Leader will agree to it. It's a request from Azell Dwyer, after all."

"Hmm, are they in a relationship or something?"

That's the most logical conclusion I can draw from her statement.

"Not everything is about love, Samur," she scoffed.

"Then Ms. Jennifer owes him a debt."

Which begs the question; why is Azell so eager to save me?

Philanthropy? Pity? Usefulness? Or was he forced to do so by Noelle?

I wouldn't be surprised if he was. That woman seems to see me as far more precious than a regular person would.

Why though?

It might have something to do with her past as an assassin.

Maybe she lost someone very important while on a job, and I remind Noelle of him/her? Or maybe she was the victim of the classic final test of 'kill someone close to you' or other such bullshit.

Or maybe at one of her contracts, she ended up killing someone right in front of their child/younger sibling. As she saw the despair in that child's eyes, Noelle was wracked with guilt and ended up quitting her job.

Maybe that's why she wants to protect me, because I remind her of that child.

Or maybe, I AM that child.

Oh my fucking god, now that would be hella amusing. And while a little far-fetched, this scenario would best explain her behaviour.

I mean, not only did she steal someone very precious from me (lol), I also almost sacrificed my own life to save hers. Then there's my complete disregard for my own life; she must feel responsible for it.

If true, then every fibre of her being must compel her to protect me, to fix me, to make me... human again.

Damn, I really, really hope that's her true backstory.

"Perhaps," Ms. CR brought me back from my exciting train of thought (fucking asshole). "I'm not sure."

"Really? I thought you were one of the firsts to be recruited by this Guild."

Why else would the mighty Jennifer allow a mere receptionist to talk to her that way?

Hmm, if I think about it, there could be many reasons, like them being normal friends, or Jennifer being soft on her Guild members, but let's just ignore them.

"That I am," a bemused smile appeared on her face. "But that doesn't mean I know absolutely everything there is to know about her."

And now she's lying to my face.

"Everyone has secrets, hmm?"

"Exactly."

"What are yours?"

"They wouldn't be secrets if I revealed them so easily, would they?"

"Fair enough."

I can't argue with that logic.

"Now then, I think you should get some sleep."

"I still need to have my breakfast, huh?"

"Glad that you've already begun to adjust to our Guild," she snickered.

"Adaptability is one of my strong suits."

"Good," she nodded. "I'll take my leave now. You know where to find me in case you need anything. Good night."

"Hmm, what about some dinner?"

It only just hit me, but I haven't had anything to eat because of Lecia and her stupid kidnapping.

The last thing I want is for everyone to call me a malnourished orphan.

"There are some snacks in there," she pointed to the cupboard beside the bed. "Though at this point, you might as well just wait for breakfast."

These guys' fixation on breakfast is almost turning into an unhealthy obsession at this point. At what point do I start consulting them as a therapist?

"What's for breakfast, anyway?"

"Depends on the chef's mood, to be honest."

Bruh.

"And what if she's in a bad mood?"

"Then she'll make something average, I guess."

"I see."

Not that it matters to me; all food is average to me.

I really need Neia.

As my personal chef.

"Anyway, see you in an hour, I suppose. Good night."

"Good night."

With that, Ms. CR left the room.

I took the bag and the sword and threw them (figuratively) in the wardrobe. Then I went down to lay on the bed.

The window was on my left, and to my chagrin, there were no curtains over it.

Seriously, what kind of barbarians do not hang curtains over their windows? Just how twisted does one have to be in the head to actually wake up with the slap of sunlight?

Ugh, sickening.

Anyway, judging from the position of the moon and the slight brightness outside (as well as the fact that Jennifer told me that breakfast is at 6 while Ms. CR said that we'll see each other in an hour), I think it will be safe to assume that right now, it's 5 in the morning.

I have yet to complete my Tsar Bomba, which means I have no way of stopping Jennifer from barging into my room (at this point she might as well be a probationary member of the New Dawn Guild).

Of course, I could add some space manipulation tricks to stall for time, but revealing my abilities in such an underwhelming fashion would be lame.

Eh, whatever, I'll just stay awake. Ez.

������

True to her words, Jennifer barged into my room right as the clock struck 6.

Like, seriously, she did not even knock or anything. She just pushed the door open and walked right in.

I know I have said this before, but what would she have done had I been wanking?

"Oh, you're already awake."

Why do I hear disappointment in your voice, Jennifer?

"Yes, unfortunately. Now bring me my fucking bread omelette."

"Geez, why are you so cranky?"

"Probably because I was forced to wake up so early in the morning."

Not that I actually slept.

"Right," she rolled her eyes. "Ah, by the way, did you hear?"

"No."

I don't remember hearing anything during the time I was in this room.

"A warehouse in the forest outside the city was burnt down."

Oh?